<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Author by Nyx Galanodel (Alyseris)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879839">Author</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyseris/pseuds/Nyx%20Galanodel'>Nyx Galanodel (Alyseris)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bruce &amp; Tim Drabble/Oneshot Collection [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff, Gen, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Writing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:26:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyseris/pseuds/Nyx%20Galanodel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce catches Tim writing in the library. Tim isn't thrilled with this, but he opens up to showing his work off.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bruce &amp; Tim Drabble/Oneshot Collection [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Author</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a late Friday evening, just barely too early to head down to the Cave and suit up, but too late for Bruce to undertake anything substantial. He’s restless, he’ll admit that. It isn’t that he has nothing to do; as always, it’s quite the opposite of that. He just wants to get out there, to follow up leads, to ride out the night -to avoid the insomnia that would otherwise plague him. Hm. </p>
<p>So as an alternative to wandering the halls of the Manor or peering down at paperwork he won’t get invested in, he makes his way to the library. There are always books to read or re-read that can take his mind off things. Not to mention the feeling of inertia, of time standing still, that has always calmed him down. And he knows he isn’t the only one who values the tranquil aura of the library, so he isn’t particularly surprised when it has another occupant when he walks in. Tim is at the coffee table, sitting on the carpet. He is bent over what looks like a notebook, the pen in his hand eagerly scribbling away. Bruce’s first thought is schoolwork, which is both parts familiar and slightly disappointing -just because he can never put work down doesn’t mean everyone around him should do the same. He quickly corrects that thought when he marks the absence of the usually associated books and stacks of notes. Something else, then.</p>
<p>Bruce quietly closes the door behind him and approaches with a light tread. Tim’s lips are pursed in concentration. He hasn’t noticed Bruce yet.</p>
<p>‘Hey, Tim.’</p>
<p>Tim doesn’t start, but he looks up just a second too quickly to exclude surprise. He blinks and smiles slightly. </p>
<p>‘Hi, Bruce. Are we heading out?’</p>
<p>A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. Perhaps Tim is just as impatient to get going as he is. ‘Not yet.’</p>
<p>Tim hums in confirmation, then turns back to his notebook, hesitating for just a moment before touching the pen back to the paper. Bruce leans forward to look.</p>
<p>‘What are you working on?’</p>
<p>And before the words are fully out of his mouth, before he has read but a single word, Tim is covering it all with his hands, looking back up at Bruce with an expression of insult and -panic, if he isn’t very much mistaken.</p>
<p>‘Don’t -’</p>
<p>Bruce raises his hands, trying to placate the situation. Tim catches himself and the panic recedes a little.</p>
<p>‘It’s nothing special,’ he says quickly. ‘No casework or anything.’</p>
<p>‘Then what is it?’ Bruce asks, prodding carefully. Tim flushes red. His eyes flicker down to the table.</p>
<p>‘Just… You know. Creative writing.’</p>
<p>Bruce can’t deny his curiosity, but it’s painfully obvious that Tim isn’t willing to answer more questions. He settles for reaching down and ruffling Tim’s hair instead, and his lips quirk at Tim’s staged indignation at that. </p>
<p>‘Sounds good, Tim. Don’t let me get in the way. Would you mind if I sat down to read?’</p>
<p>‘Go ahead,’ Tim mutters. He’s fixing his hair, and doing a bad job of hiding a shy smile. ‘It’s your house.’</p>
<p>‘If that were my attitude, I wouldn’t have asked.’</p>
<p>Tim shrugs, but Bruce knows he got the message. He finds a book and sits down at a respectable distance, just trying to make sure that Tim doesn’t feel spied on. It must work, because when he’s turned his attention to reading, the sounds of a pen writing and paper shifting echo in the room. A peaceful half an hour later, they get ready to leave for the night, and don’t mention what happened for weeks.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>‘Bruce?’</p>
<p>Bruce looks up from the reports on his lap. He’s in the lounge, comfortable in a stuffed armchair before a crackling fire. Tim must have snuck in, and he somehow hadn’t noticed. He doesn’t give the boy enough credit, sometimes.</p>
<p>Tim is holding a slightly crumpled notebook. Bruce connects the dots almost immediately and straightens up. </p>
<p>‘Sorry, am I interrupting you?’</p>
<p>Bruce gestures vaguely. ‘No. I’ve got all evening for these. What’s the matter?’</p>
<p>‘Well, I thought maybe… Do you remember that I said I write? In my free time?’</p>
<p>Bruce nods. Tim must see that as enough incentive to continue.</p>
<p>‘I thought, maybe you’d like to read some of it. You don’t have to,’ he adds quickly, very clearly suddenly self-conscious. ‘I’m not asking for approval, or anything, and I don’t want to make you read anything -nnh, never mind, this is stupid -’</p>
<p>‘I’d love to read it, Tim.’ Bruce cuts off Tim’s spiralling with as clear a confirmation as he can offer. Tim looks up from the floor. ‘That is, if you’re still offering?’</p>
<p>‘Yeah,’ Tim says. It’s relief on his face now; still some embarrassment, but nothing like the shame there was just now. ‘Yes, of course.’</p>
<p>He approaches Bruce’s chair, flicking through the pages before handing the notebook over. ‘It’s best if you start here, you can see I labelled these pages differently from the ones before. This story is ten pages so please don’t -don’t go past those ten? The page numbers will change again, if that helps.’</p>
<p>‘I’ll look out for them,’ Bruce says reassuringly. ‘Take a seat.’</p>
<p>Tim nods uncertainly but complies, sitting down on the couch beside Bruce’s chair and pulling his knees up to his chin. Bruce moves his paperwork to the coffee table and gets comfortable. When he’s a few lines in, Tim’s shoulders sink and he reaches for his phone, finally a little relaxed. With that reassuring observation, he starts anew, making sure every word gets his full attention.</p>
<p>Just like that, it feels, he has blown through the ten pages. The last word is staring at him in neat, cursive handwriting as he processes. He’s… impressed, genuinely so. By no means did he have low expectations, but this, he had not expected. The story is well-crafted, brief although it is, and its characters are surprisingly compelling. Even with some slow or stuttering entries, the prose is engaging and clings to the events like velvet, snug and perfectly in place. Bruce finds himself hoping that this isn’t a one-off story, that more will follow. Even if it is just that, he’d be more than interested in reading more of Tim’s works.</p>
<p>It must be clear that he’s finished reading, because Tim shifts slightly beside him and speaks out, his voice quiet and careful. ‘And? What… what do you think?’</p>
<p>Bruce tears his eyes away from the page and feels a genuine -small, maybe, but earnest- smile curl his lips. ‘It’s good, Tim. Really good. I’m impressed -I didn’t know you were hiding another talent from me.’</p>
<p>Tim blushes, but he looks distinctly pleased underneath the embarrassment. ‘Not hiding, it’s just… a bit personal. Do you… do you really like it?’</p>
<p>‘Of course,’ Bruce says, with a grin now. He reaches out to squeeze Tim’s shoulder. ‘If there’s anything else you’re comfortable sharing, I’d love to see that, too.’</p>
<p>Tim’s smile is bright. ‘Definitely, I’ll see what’s good!’</p>
<p>‘I’m sure it’s all excellent.’</p>
<p>‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ Tim chuckles awkwardly. ‘But something in here is bound to be passable.’</p>
<p>It’s quiet for a moment. Tim timidly clears his throat.</p>
<p>‘Thank you, Bruce.’</p>
<p>That’s all he needs to say. Bruce gets the message. He squeezes again, gentle and reassuring. </p>
<p>‘No problem, Tim.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Can any of y'all relate too? I feel like this is what being caught writing original fiction by someone you want to impress is like, lol.<br/>Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Fingers crossed that I'll have another one ready by next week.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>